


Lead a Horse to Water

by druscilla



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Face-Fucking, Firsts, In Public, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Van Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4947958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/druscilla/pseuds/druscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick has to lead Pete to what it is he wants.  </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Slutty Pete Wentz who was all moans and expletives when hips were rolling and mouths were dancing, but the minute Patrick's fingers reached for his belt buckle or slipped in his front pockets, all his confidence went out the window and Patrick had to bring it back to the safe world of vanilla makeouts and jerking off in the bathroom after.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lead a Horse to Water

Patrick's first time having sex with a boy went the way he assumed it did for most teenage boys getting fucked by boys who had no idea what they were doing. It was his boyfriend and it hurt and they didn't know how to fix it and they only did it one more time before they broke up two months later. 

Then there had been that one time with that one guy at that one party. He had been a dick and he hadn't cared and Patrick had pretty much given up on letting any guy fuck him by that point. 

Then along came Pete.

Slutty Pete Wentz who was all moans and expletives when hips were rolling and mouths were dancing, but the minute Patrick's fingers reached for his belt buckle or slipped in his front pockets, all his confidence went out the window and Patrick had to bring it back to the safe world of vanilla makeouts and jerking off in the bathroom after.

\---

Patrick's hands were under Pete's shirt and that seemed to be fine. Fingertips tracing the warm muscles of his stomach and light fingernails as they ran along to his back to cup his shoulder blades. Lips were hot and fast and Pete favored lip biting to tongue, but especially preferred trying to suck hickies onto Patrick's neck before he noticed and yanked away savagely. "I will end you," he hissed for the third time.

Pete laughed and pulled Patrick's mouth back to his. The younger boy took the opportunity to hook his fingers in the older boy's belt loops, hoping that wouldn't be enough to scare him off. There was hesitation, but Patrick pulled him closer by the denim and pressed their hips tight together. He swallowed Pete's whimper.

He didn't go further, didn't push harder, but Pete was hesitant the rest of the time, his noises softer and his body waiting for Patrick's lead.

\---

Pete dragged Patrick into the closet to makeout, so Patrick pushed him into the corner and made sure his thigh accidentally pressed between the other boy's legs, keeping them parted as Pete tried to hold his own. "I just want--" Pete started, but then he cut himself off with a frustrated noise.

Patrick's hand gripped the back of Pete's neck, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, then staring into his eyes, unblinking, unwavering. "You want what? Tell me." There was heat in his eyes and his voice and the fingertips on Pete's skin and the heat of it was just too much. He was going to burn it out of him.

Pete made the noise again and Patrick kissed him again, cutting it off, his lips as hot as the words that he spit them. "Tell me what you want. Now."

There was a foot stamp and another angry noise and this time Patrick was done. 

"Fine. We'll figure out something else for your mouth to do."

Pete's eyes went so wide they were almost perfect circles. His mouth opened once but then it closed. There might have been fear there, a little, maybe. But mostly Patrick registered shock and hesitation and a little relief and the slow glowing warmth of arousal. Pete didn't say a word, didn't move. 

Patrick took a step back and pushed the other boy to his knees on the ground, undoing his own belt buckle. Was this what it was going to take? Was Pete the horse that needed to be lead to water and then made to drink? Of course he was. 

Patrick cupped the older boy's hand in his chin and used the other to push his erection against Pete's lips. A moment's hesitation and then they parted, warm mouth opening to let the younger boy press inside. Pete had no idea what he was doing, but it didn't matter. Patrick hadn't intended for this to be a learning exercise. 

There was a nearly brutal precision in the way Patrick could hold Pete's chin in his hand and fuck his mouth so perfectly, from the full parted lips to the tight back of his throat. God, the tightness when Pete choked on him was almost too much, especially when the spit started to trickle down his chin and he gave up on wiping it away. He whimpered around Patrick's cock and his fingers twisted in the younger boy's jeans from his spot on the floor.

Pete tried to swallow when Patrick came, but he choked and pulled back sputtering, ending up with more come on his cheeks than in his mouth. Patrick bit back his weak laugh and hurried to catch his breath, kneeling in front of Pete as soon as he had pulled his jeans back up. He used the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe the older boy's face, immediately pulling the garment off and wadding it into a ball. 

"What do you need?" he whispered softly.

Pete just shook his head.

\---

That night, in the van, Patrick had first shift and Pete had last, but he pushed Joe out of the front seat and took it anyway. He tapped his fingers on his thighs and didn't say a word until they had cleared the city and at least an hour of interstate. "I hate Texas."

Patrick snorted. "You don't hate Texas."

Pete sighed. "Do you hate Texas?"

"No."

A moment of consideration, more finger tapping, and another sigh. "Okay, fine. I won't hate Texas then."

The younger boy shook his head, but turned to give Pete a quick smile, his knee a quick squeeze before turning his attention back to the road. Pete pulled his legs to his chest in the seat and kept his lips resting against the spot Patrick's hand had touched until they stopped to fill up for gas and switch.

\---

They were in the van, on the floor between the seats since it was daytime and they didn't want anyone to see. Pete was shirtless and had been since they unloaded the equipment over an hour ago, but that still didn't stop him from making these soft mewing noises in the back of his throat when Patrick's fingers hooked under the waistband of his jeans. His hips jerked back, but his arms wrapped tighter around the younger boy.

Patrick's fingers gripped tighter and pulled Pete closer to him. They were both hard in their way too tight jeans and Pete was squirming, which didn't help either of them in that situation. "Hold still," Patrick hissed.

Pete couldn't. He stopped moving for a few seconds, but then he was squirming again. It wasn't even really to get away. Maybe it was to keep him from getting too close. "Can't we just makeout?" he whispered back.

"We are just making out," Patrick told him in a low voice, one of his legs wrapping around one of Pete's in an effort to calm his movements. As if to prove his point, he caught Pete's mouth in his and bit down on his bottom lip, _hard_. The older boy gave a small cry and his hips bucked into Patrick's against his will. 

"Making out with benefits," Pete argued weakly.

Patrick bit his neck that time. "Trust me, there aren't any benefits."

They battled for a few more minutes, ending up with Patrick's hands tightly gripping Pete's shoulders while his hands pressed against the younger boy's chest, until someone gave a warning knock on the van door before yanking it open. 

\---

They were pressed into the corner of the bathroom stall. Patrick had Pete's wrists pinned next to his head, while the older boy's neck strained, leaning forward to desperately keep the kisses going. The singer was holding him in such a way that the only parts of their bodies touching were hands and mouths. Pete's hips were twisting every which way, but Patrick managed to stay just out of reach.

"I want." There was no fade out or trail off. That was Pete's entire statement. He looked at Patrick through heavy lidded eyes and repeated it again. "I want."

It wasn't enough. "What do you want?" the younger boy asked, his lips still barely touching Pete's as they moved. Then he pulled back, watching the way the the older boy's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed against it.

Pete closed his eyes and licked his lips, still pinned to the wall by his wrists. Slowly, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, dark with heavy need. "You," he choked out, voice gravel.

Patrick nodded. "Me what?" His lips turned up slightly at the corners and there was the echo of a laugh in his voice, but his eyes were narrowed.

A small whine slipped from the older boy's mouth and his wrists feebly tugged against Patrick's grip. "Trick, please. Just . . . touch me?" His head fell forward and he gave a dry sob, his hips finally stilling as he waited, helpless. His eyes opened when he felt his wrists slipping down, having been released. Patrick was smiling at him and then kissing him, hands on his belt buckle, moving feverishly.

"Fucking finally," he growled as his hands moved to button and zipper, pushing the denim down Pete's thighs along with his underwear, keeping him tangled in the tight fabric so he couldn't easily move. A hand wrapped around Pete's erection and he moaned into Patrick's mouth, hips bucking forward and hands twisting in the other boy's shirt.

The main door to the bathroom banged open, bringing in a louder flood of music and the voices of a few guys, plus some laughter. The door shut, muffling the music again, but leaving the voices. 

Patrick could feel Pete panicking against him, but he didn't stop moving his hand, bringing the other one up to grip Pete's hair and hold him in place. They two guys were still talking and and they could hear other sounds, too. Patrick tried not to smirk into the kiss. It was so fucking hot, pinning Pete against the wall while two guys pissed on the other side of the stall. His hand moved quicker and Pete was shaking from trying to suppress his moans.

The guys left without washing their hands and Pete came the instant the club music started bumping through the room again. Patrick could feel the vibrations in his feet as he felt the other boy spilling over his hand. He pulled back from the kisses so he could hear all the dirty words and moans falling from Pete's mouth. Then a head falling against his shoulder a few shaky breaths.

The main door banged open again, but this time there were no voices. Patrick was starting to panic now. They could only stay here for so long. "Pete," he barely whispered into the bassist's ear.

The older boy seemed to stir and straightened himself up, hands moving to do his jeans since Patrick's were a mess at the moment. Pete pulled some toilet paper off the roll and helped to clean them while the stranger outside the stall washed his hands. They slipped out through the back hallway once the bathroom was empty again.

Pete was exhausted. Patrick wrapped an arm around his shoulders and let the older boy lean against him as they walked to the van. It was devoid of human life, but already packed with their equipment. He helped Pete lay down in the backseat. Two hands made grabbing gestures at him, so he shut the door and sat down, smiling when the two hands took his.

"You're kind of a slut, 'Trick," he murmured sleepily.

The younger boy smiled slightly to himself but just shook his head at the boy whose eyes were already closing. "Look who's talking."


End file.
